


Anything You Can Do I Can Do Better (But Let's Do It Together Instead)

by swansaloft (orphan_account)



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Bands, Based on a Tumblr Post, F/F, Fluff, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-15
Updated: 2015-11-15
Packaged: 2018-05-01 18:00:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5215328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/swansaloft
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Having a girlfriend is hard when you’re supposed to hate her. </p><p>Featuring: Emma and Regina as rival singers, Zelena and Granny as celebrity bloggers, really obvious meta, and a whole lot of fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anything You Can Do I Can Do Better (But Let's Do It Together Instead)

**Author's Note:**

> This is all tumblr’s fault ([this](http://itsswanqueen.tumblr.com/post/133112562767/swan-queen-au-the-one-where-theyre-rival) post specifically). Prompt: The One Where They're Rival Singers (Until They're Not)
> 
>  
> 
> **Regina and Zelena are not sisters in this fic, and there’s no Henry.**
> 
>  
> 
> It is literally after 4 AM right now, so I apologize for any mistakes. For instance, I just spelled that as "misteaks." That is probably an indication that I am too tired to be posting fic. Or an indication that I'm remarkably hungry. Or both. Probably both.
> 
> Regardless, I hope you enjoy.

The first time Emma Swan goes to a Regina Mills concert, she’s only there to size up the competition. She has Mary Margaret buy a crap ton of merch, winds up wearing a pink babydoll tee with a bedazzled _RM_ scrawled across the front, a tiny crown perched at an angle atop the curve of the _R._ Emma’s more partial to the matching snapback if she had to choose, but contrary to popular belief, hats have a bad habit of attracting attention rather than detracting it. So she leaves it behind, despite the fact that no one in the country would expect Grammy-winning, America’s Sweetheart, Emma Swan to attend a performance by the woman the press has labeled her arch-nemesis.

 

Emma can barely get out of an interview these days without someone asking a question about Regina Mills.

 

*

 

_[Shot of two women standing in a recording studio. On the left,_ _**Emma Swan** _ _, in casual yet fashionable attire. The camera zooms in on her, her trademarks two necklaces visible, one circle, one swan, both silver, nestled into the vee of her black top.]_

 

_**Ella** _ _: I’m Ella Prince, and today, I’m here with America’s Sweetheart, Emma Swan._

 

_[_ _**Emma** _ _smiles and waves at the camera.]_

 

_**Ella** _ _: First off, I just can’t believe you didn’t get that VMA! We all thought for sure you had it in the bag. “Tallahassee” is one of my favorite songs of all time._

 

_[_ _**Emma** _ _shrugs.]_

 

_**Emma** : That’s the business, you know. Am I disappointed? Of course. But it’s a very personal song for me, and I think a lot of people can relate to it. And at the end of the day, it’s not all about the awards. It’s about making music that speaks to people._

 

_**Ella** _ _: A gift you have in spades, as we all know. But Regina Mills might be one to watch. There’s only room for one at the top, as they say! What do you think of her, Emma?_

 

_**Emma** _ _: She’s got talent, definitely. I mean, I love “Once Upon a Time,” who doesn’t? It’s a great song. I sometimes find myself singing it in the shower, not gonna lie._

 

_[_ _**Ella** _ _and_ _**Emma** _ _laugh, and_ _**Ella** _ _moves onto another question.]_

 

(The funny part is that Emma isn’t even exaggerating, she fucking loves that song, and she sings it under her breath sometimes. Gold glares at her.)

 

*

 

Emma thanks Ruby a million times over, forever grateful that her best friend is a Hollywood makeup artist possessing superhuman abilities with her arsenal of colors and tools.

 

“Why are you doing this again?” Ruby asks, putting on the finishing touches.

 

“What?”

 

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, Em, I’m always happy for a chance to hone my skills, especially on a canvas like your face. But what’s so special about Regina Mills that you need to go undercover just see her live?”

 

Emma shrugs. Honestly, she isn’t even sure herself. Sure, Regina swooped in and captured a VMA everyone assumed to be Emma’s, and yes, her fairytale-themed album that finally dropped last month has been selling faster than hotcakes imprinted with the image of a shirtless Chris Pratt. But it’s been six years since Emma shot to the top, the eighteen year old orphan girl on American Idol with big lungs and bigger dreams who captured the country’s hearts almost immediately. She’s had three platinum albums, nearly two hundred performances, countless interviews. She’s had the media back her up and tear her down (sometimes simultaneously), and if there’s one thing she’s never been short on, it’s other female singers the press tries to pit her against.

 

Emma always does her best to shut them down, but for some reason, this one is sticking. It was already starting when Regina’s album hit, and once she captured that VMA, suddenly headlines everywhere were proclaiming the two of them enemies.

 

So despite Emma’s efforts (and Regina’s, who has remained classy throughout the ordeal, something that makes Emma even _more_ curious about her), rivals they seem destined to be.

 

“I just want to check her out. See what all the fuss is about. That sort of thing.”

 

“You could just buy her album, you know,” Ruby remarks with a snap of her gum.

 

“You know that’s not the same.”

 

“If you say so. Well, now’s your chance,” Ruby says, stepping back and gesturing to the mirror with a flourish.

 

“Oh my _God_.”

 

Forget the paparazzi; Emma doesn’t even recognize her _own_ face.

 

“You’re seriously amazing, you know that?”

 

Ruby says nothing, just takes a theatrical bow, then hands Emma the last bits of her disguise. When she slips on the black frames and the fine-quality, bobbed auburn wig, she becomes a virtual stranger.

 

Emma glances at her phone, and the time that flashes back at her confirms she’s right on schedule. “Thanks again, Rubes! Wish me luck!”

 

“Good luck, crazy girl.”

 

Emma sticks out her tongue at her best friend before she lets the door slam behind her.

 

Emma makes it into the concert without incident. The crowd isn’t huge, not like the ones at her concerts now, but it’s still big enough that blending in is easy.

 

Then the audience lights go down, the stage lights go up, and Emma forgets all about being found out and has eyes only for the woman on the stage.

 

She opens with her newest single and the name of the tour, “Regal,” an upbeat tune that gets the crowd excited. Emma is captivated.

 

Halfway into the concert, Emma completely understands how Regina was able to take the music scene by storm. She has a tremendous voice, tons of energy, and the ability to command the stage but still stay real at the same time. She laughs out loud when Regina trips over one of the cords and plays it off with this super dorky dance move, and the crowd loves it, too.

 

Of course, it also doesn’t hurt that she is stunningly beautiful. Emma already knows this, though, that time when she’d seen her in person for the first time playing in the back of her head. She’d been giving an interview on the red carpet before the VMAs, and Regina had walked by in this backless crimson dress. Thankfully, she had done so out of shot of the camera, because Emma had completely lost track of what she’d been saying, had to be rescued by the reporter jumping in and finishing her thought for her. Emma normally hated when they did that, but in that case, she’d been grateful.

 

Today Emma feels that little crush returning with full force, watching Regina command that stage like a pro. Emma already knows that Regina writes all her own songs, something that always garners her respect. She also knows that Regina is only a year younger than Emma herself. And that her favorite color is purple, at least according to the interview in _Seventeen_ that ran last month.

 

Yes, she’s done some research.

 

And okay, so maybe the crush has been a bit of a thing for a while, if she’s honest with herself.

 

But it feels more real today. It feels like it actually _counts_.

 

When the audience shouts for an encore, Regina steps back out onto the stage alone, sits down at the piano, and plays a stripped version of “Once Upon a Time” that leaves Emma tearful and altogether breathless.

 

Ruby texts Emma late that night to check for results of the mission.

 

If Emma happens to be listening to a certain newly-purchased album while she taps out her reply, well, she doesn’t mention it.

 

* * *

 

The second time Emma Swan goes to a Regina Mills concert, she wears the glasses and the wig but skips the makeup.

 

It’s a mistake.

 

It’s ten minutes before the start of the concert when out of the corner of her eye, she sees heads swivel in her direction, notices the tell-tale hush followed by quiet whispers that will gradually escalate into a roar that includes the paparazzi if she doesn’t make it out in time.

 

 _Shit_ , there’s one now, jogging down the aisle with a camera in hand.

 

“ _Dammit_ ,” Emma mutters through clenched teeth, and she quickly maneuvers around the opposite side and heads straight to the door around the side of the stage.

 

Thankfully she’d had the foresight to tell Gold her whereabouts (in text form so she didn’t have to listen to his arguments as her manager, feeding him a line about “sizing up the competition”). She’d attached a photo of her appearance for him to forward to the security team just in case, and she’s thankful for that now. She presents herself to the one who seems to be in charge, a tall guy whose name tag identifies him as Lance, and he gives her a nod and lets her pass before resuming his formidable stance against the oncoming onslaught.

 

She winds through the backstage to the hall and almost runs smack into Regina Mills.

 

The brunette halts in her tracks, clearly being jolted from her own little pre-concert world, and Emma sees the exact moment she’s recognized. The brunette blinks.

 

“Emma Swan,” Emma says, holding out her hand awkwardly.

 

Regina quirks a brow, taking a quick swig from her water bottle before she reaches out to take Emma’s hand. “I know.”

 

Emma laughs, and Regina tilts her head to the side.

 

“So, why are you at my concert, Emma? Aren’t we supposed to be enemies or something?”

 

“Please,” Emma scoffs. Regina’s smile turns a little less sarcastically curious and a little more genuine. “Honestly? I loved the last one so much that I had to come back.”

 

Regina’s eyes widen.

 

“Um, wow. Thanks.”

 

“You’re welcome.”

 

“Well, I should-” she points to the door that leads to the stage, and Emma steps out of the way.

 

“Oh! Yeah, sorry.”

 

“No problem.” Regina pauses in the doorway. “Trusting that you’re not lying and actually here to, like, poison my water supply or something, feel free to watch from back here. I don’t mind.”

 

She doesn’t wait for a response, just disappears into the darkness.

 

So, the second time Emma Swan sees Regina Mills in concert, she winds up doing so from the wings, because she can’t bring herself to leave.

 

*

 

**Zelena’s ‘Zine: No Scoop Too Wicked**

 

_AMERICA’S SWEETHEART WORRIED A CERTAIN REGAL MIGHT STEAL HER CROWN?_

 

_There are rumors that Emma Swan was spotted at the Regina Mills concert last night. No conclusive photographs were provided, but several eyewitnesses claim to have seen the superstar sporting the classic wig-and-glasses combination. Some claim she was there to sabotage the event. If so, she failed, because the concert was sold out for a reason; Regina blew the audience away from start to finish. More likely, Emma was at the concert to do one thing and one thing only: check out the competition. Be on the lookout for these two, my dearest minions. This is only the first stroke of the fire, and if Emma’s career isn’t going to be forever, well, I believe we all know there’s a line about flames. But who will be the victor in this particular rivalry? No one can tell. Either way, it’s sure to be an incredible sight, and I’ve always loved a good blaze._

 

* * *

 

The third time Emma Swan goes to a Regina Mills concert, she learns that that isn’t even Regina’s real name.

 

“Really?” They’re in Regina’s dressing room an hour after the show, on opposite ends of this huge leather couch Emma would seriously love to cart off to her condo. Of course, her condo is approximately two hundred miles away, because she _may_ flown to a different state just to watch Regina perform. But it’s been two weeks since the last concert, and they’re kind of friends now (or they follow each other on Twitter, at least), so it’s not weird.

 

“Yep,” Regina answers, fingers tapping on her thighs. “My real name is Regina Mejia. But my manager thought Regina _Mills_ would probably be more acceptable to the public.”

 

“Who’s your manager?”  
  


“My mother.”

 

“Ouch.”

 

Regina’s smile is bitter. “Yeah.”

 

*

 

Three hours later, they’re in Regina’s room at the Hilton on yet another couch, champagne bottle half empty and forgotten on the floor, as Emma regales her with a horror story about an almost wardrobe malfunction on the red carpet. Regina’s bent in half, giggling at Emma’s antics.

 

“So, life lesson, young padawan,” Emma concludes, wagging a finger in Regina’s direction. “Never wear five inch heels, especially with a floor-length dress.”

 

Regina straightens, wiping her eyes. “Okay, one, I’m only a year younger than you, so I’m pretty sure I can’t be your padawan. And two, _some_ of us might actually possess the coordination required to wear high heels, even if _others_ of us lack said gift.”

 

“Um, excuse you, I’m only trying to pass on my wisdom.”

 

Regina leans over and picks up her phone, staring at it with an intense frown of feigned concentration, tapping exaggeratedly at the screen. “Never let Emma wear high heels, got it.”

 

Emma tosses a throw pillow at her. “You’re hilarious.” She hesitates, then continues. “While you have it out, though, um. I could give you my number. Just in case you have a question or need advice or something. As a friend.”

 

Regina looks up, blinks fast. “I’m sorry, I think I just had an out of body experience Like, _Holy shit, Emma Swan just offered me her phone number_.”

 

Emma rolls her eyes. “That’s because I did.”

 

“You know what I mean.”

 

“I’m pretending I don’t.”

 

Regina swipes at her phone to unlock the screen, and Emma stops halfway to reaching for her champagne glass when she sees Regina’s phone background.

 

“Oh my god, you watch Happily Ever After? I guess, of course you do, with the whole fairytale thing. But I _love_ that show.”

 

“I’m totally obsessed.”

 

“Right? I have such a crush on the Evil Queen.”

 

“I could see that. I’m more into the Savior, though. If I ever met her in person, I think I’d pass out. Or ask to make out with her. Definitely one or the other.”

 

Emma’s breathing falters. She fixes her eyes on Regina, but the brunette is looking down at the couch, trying to be casual.

 

“So, ladies. You’re a fan, then?”

 

Regina chuckles. “That’s one way to put it, yes.”

 

“Oh. Well, cool. That’s cool. Me, too.”

 

Regina meets her eyes with this little smile playing around her lips, and something takes up residence inside Emma’s chest and starts playing ping-pong with her internal organs.

 

“I know.”

 

“You say that a lot.”

 

“No, I don’t. But it was kind of a huge thing. America’s Sweetheart coming out as a lesbian.”

 

Emma leans against the side of the couch. “I actually wanted to be open about it from the beginning. By the time I finished high school, I was comfortable calling myself a lesbian. But then there was a record deal and Gold, and he wouldn’t even let me mention it for those first two years. Finally, I just stopped caring. I told him I’d either stop lying about myself, or I’d fire him. At that point, I knew I had other options. And I knew that I was in the perfect place, you know? There were people all out there struggling, never seeing anyone like them on screen or on stage. And if I couldn’t use being ‘America’s Sweetheart,’ for something good, then why was I even there?”

 

Regina nods. “It must be nice to be able to make the calls like that. Thankfully I’ve always been pretty open about is the fact that I’m bisexual, so that’s one area my mother doesn’t try to make me hide. The funny thing is that no one has asked me once. They ask me my shoe size, my weight, what I carry around in my purse, and they make assumptions about everything about me. But I brought Locksley as my date to _one_ event, and the press doesn’t even question it. They all just assume I’m straight.”

 

“Fuck heteronormativity,” Emma says, holding up her champagne glass, and Regina clinks her own against it.

 

“Seriously.”

 

They sit in silence for a few seconds, draining the last of their glasses. Finally, Emma takes a breath and licks her lips.

 

“So, full disclosure, I’m all up for the friends thing, because you’re awesome. Like, really awesome. A+ friendship material. But I also really like you, and I’d like to go out with you sometime. If you’d be interested.”

 

Regina’s face doesn’t move for a good two seconds, and Emma feels her heart start to sink into the vicinity of her feet.

 

“You know, if I squint, you kind of look like her.”

 

_Huh?_

 

“Who?”

 

“The Savior.”

 

Emma feels her lips pull up into a giant grin entirely of their own accord.

 

“Oh, really? Does this mean you want to make out with me?”

 

“Maybe if you play your cards right,” Regina says with a smirk, and Emma snorts.

 

*

 

(Excerpt from **Emma Swan** ’s personal Kik account, found by one **Mary Margaret Blanchard** , upon snooping through her favorite boss’s phone.)

 

_**swansong:** _ _Why did we decide not to kiss, again?_

 

_**regalcharm:** _ _I believe it was something about taking it slow._

 

_**swansong:** _ _Yeah, but I don’t get to see you for another three weeks._

 

_**regalcharm:** _ _And whose fault is that for having to stay in the recording studio day and night?_

 

_**swansong:** _ _Like this is my my fault. You are literally six states away from me right now. I counted._

 

_**regalcharm:** _ _a) The whole “slow” concept was your idea. b) That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard._

 

_**swansong:** _ _a) I’m an idiot sometimes. b) The fact that you’re that far away, or that I counted?_

 

_**regalcharm:** _ _a) I know. b) Both._

 

_**regalcharm:** _ _(I counted, too.)_

 

_**swansong:** _ _:)_

 

_**swansong:** _ _(And just for the record, you totally do say that a lot.)_

 

* * *

 

The fourth time Emma Swan goes to a Regina Mills concert, she flies to Tucson just to see her, and she doesn’t even try to be subtle about it.

 

Mary Margaret can’t hide her giant grin when Emma asks her to book the tickets.

 

“What?”

 

Her assistant’s eyes open comically wide, like they always do when she’s trying to protest her innocence. She seriously has the worst poker face Emma has ever encountered.

 

“Nothing. No reason at all. Why are you going to Tucson?”

 

Emma narrows her eyes. “I’d tell you, but I’m pretty sure you might already have a good idea.”

 

Mary Margaret caves. “Oh, Emma, I’m just so happy for you!” she squeals as she pulls Emma into a hug. “It’s been a long time since Mulan, and I was worried you’d never open your heart again.”

 

Emma rolls her eyes as she extricates herself from her assistant’s arms. Despite the fact that she is only four years older than Emma herself, she is prone to mothering Emma even more than her own child. She’s been Emma’s assistant since she was the eighteen-year-old newbie straight off of American Idol, and they’ve grown into a comfortable sort of relationship where Mary Margaret is more of a mother figure in her life than Emma’s ever had. That includes scolding, praising, reminding, and, apparently, snooping through personal effects.

 

“How’d you know?”

 

“You know how you accidentally left your phone at the studio yesterday and asked me to get it for you? I may have taken longer than necessary.”

 

“Seriously? Privacy! It’s a thing!”

 

Mary Margaret holds up her hands. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it! You’re glued to that thing lately, and you get all gooey-eyed every time you look at the screen.” Emma starts to protest, but Mary Margaret continues before she even has a chance to get out a full word. “Yes, you do. And usually you have your own songs stuck in your head all the time when you’re recording, but I haven’t heard you sing anything besides Regina Mills songs when you’re outside of the studio in days.”

 

Emma glowers at her, but Mary Margaret isn’t deterred.

 

“Are you happy?”

 

“With you invading my privacy? Not particularly.”

 

“We both know this isn’t the first time this is happened, and it probably won’t be the last. And you know that’s not what I meant. Does she make you happy?”

 

Emma can’t help the small smile that crawls across her features. “Yeah. Yeah, she really does.”

 

“Good.” Mary Margaret nods, satisfied, then turns to leave the room.

 

Emma hollers after her. “Still not cool!”

 

Mary Margaret pauses in the doorway. “Tell me that again when you need my help planning the wedding.”

 

“We literally haven’t been on a single date yet.”

 

“I just have a feeling. Like I did with David.” Mary Margaret gets smiley like she does every time she talks about her husband, even though they’ve been together over a decade.

 

Emma always rolls her eyes and pretends to be grossed out, but deep down, she’s always been a little inspired by them. She sees a lot of relationship drama in this crazy world of celebrities and gossip (though not nearly as much as the media would like everyone to believe), and her childhood hadn’t provided her with much hope for relationships either. But seeing that one steadfast couple always reassures her that love is real.

 

“Aren’t you always the one telling me not to count my chickens before they hatch and all that?”

 

Mary Margaret just gazes at her with a smile and those bright, too-earnest eyes.

 

“Just follow your heart, Emma.”

 

So Emma does. And it lands her in Tucson, three weeks later, in a private VIP booth where she can watch her secret girlfriend sing her heart out.

 

*

 

After the concert, Emma heads to Regina’s private limo as they’ve already arranged. She sits there for close to an hour, getting to know Regina’s driver, Marco. They chat for a bit, but he isn’t particularly talkative. So Emma plays on her phone and waits another twenty minutes before Regina is finished signing autographs and posing for pictures.

 

“Hey,” Emma says, grinning, once Regina finally slides into the seat.

 

“Hey,” Regina returns. She smells a little like sweat and makeup, and Emma wants to kiss her anyway. But not yet. They’ve waited so long, and she can’t just attack her the minute they’re alone.

 

The silence stretches for three seconds, then five, and Emma fidgets. She toys with a hole in her jeans that was put there artificially.

 

What’s with that, anyway? Who decided that holes were something clothes were supposed to have? She’d been made fun of more than once as a child for having clothes with holes in them. Life is a strange, strange thing, she concludes.

 

And then she wonders exactly how long this silence has been going on and what the hell she’s doing just sitting there feeling awkward and thinking about jeans.

 

Because this is her girlfriend, the one she texts multiple times a day. The one who makes fun of her and who tells her great jokes and sends her pictures of food she thinks Emma should try. The woman Emma is kind of petrified she’s already falling in love with.

 

She looks over at Regina, only to find Regina turning her head in her direction, too.

 

Their eyes meet, and they dissolve into laughter for a few seconds, the awkwardness dissipating immediately.

 

“I can’t believe you’re finally here,” Regina says, scooting closer to her. “I actually could touch you if I wanted to.”

 

“ _If_?” Emma teases, and Regina blushes.

 

“You know I want to.”

 

“Good. Because I’ve spent a pretty long time wanting to touch you, too.”

 

Emma closes the gap between them, until she’s hovering only two inches away from Regina’s lips. Those deep chocolate eyes are hooded, half closed, staring at her lips.

 

“You were amazing up there tonight. I couldn’t wait to do this.”

 

“Then stop waiting,” Regina commands, and they close the remaining distance together until their lips finally touch.

 

Emma’s heart stutters at that first contact. Regina’s lips are warm and soft, and she makes this tiny noise that makes it hard for Emma to breathe. She draws back, but she wants to be closer.

 

Emma opens her eyes, and Regina licks her lips, places her hand on Emma’s cheek.

 

Emma takes the hint, and she leans forward again, capturing Regina’s lips with her own. Her hand curls into Regina’s waist when she touches her tongue for the first time. Regina tastes like cinnamon gum. Emma can feel herself begin to crave that flavor already, and she hasn’t even stopped tasting it. Regina’s fingers migrate to the back of her head to grip her hair, the sensation pleasantly tight.

 

Emma barely notices the chuckle from the front and the noise as Marco rolls up the partition.

 

She _does_ hear the way Regina gasps when she pulls back a little and lets her teeth catch on the brunette’s bottom lip _just_ so.

 

She watches as Regina swallows and slowly opens her eyes, her pupils huge in the middle of the dark brown irises.

 

“That was _so_ worth the wait,” Regina breathes.

 

“Hell yeah,” Emma answers. And she goes back in for another kiss.

 

By the time they arrive at the hotel, Emma smells like sweat, too. She has a little bit of Regina’s makeup on her face, and it’s way too dark for her, and she can’t bring herself to give a single fuck because everything’s perfect.

 

When they get up to the room, the first thing Regina wants to do is shower. Somehow, though, they get distracted in their own conversation, and she’s hasn’t even entered the bathroom by the time room service shows up with their grilled chicken and asparagus. During dinner, Regina’s best friend Marian calls from Maine, and Regina brings up the video chat so she and Emma can “meet” for the first time. At this point in her career, it takes a lot to make Emma nervous about meeting a person, but she’s a little apprehensive because she knows how much Marian’s opinion means to Regina. Thankfully, they talk for a good fifteen minutes, at the end of which Marian gives her enthusiastic approval. Emma breathes a sigh of relief, having passed the Best Friend Test. Even after hanging up on Marian and finishing dinner, they stand and move to the couch for a while longer.

 

All-in-all, it’s close to two hours later before Regina realizes she’s still wearing her stage makeup and concert clothes. Two hours of laughter and closeness and Emma once leaning in over the tiny dining room table to place a gentle peck on Regina’s lips just because they’re in the same room and they can. At one point after they’ve finished eating, Regina reaches her hand over and twines their fingers together, and Emma’s stomach feels all warm, like she’s just downed a shot of good whiskey.

 

Regina tugs on her hand, and Emma obliges, leaning in closer. Regina brushes a light kiss across Emma’s mouth before standing.

 

“I should go shower now.”

 

Emma bites back the offer to shower with her, because she doesn’t want to make assumptions or pressure Regina into something she’s not ready for.

 

But then Regina comes back out of the bathroom, wrapped only in a towel. Her face is scrubbed free of makeup, but her hair and arms are still dry.

 

“You know, this shower is huge. Definitely big enough for two if you’re up for it.”

 

“I _am_ feeling a little dirty right now, come to think of it,” Emma quips as she stands from the bed and wanders over to where Regina is standing.

 

“Good. Me, too,” Regina says, even as she blushes a little, and dammit if that isn’t the best thing Emma’s ever seen.

 

Correction: The best thing Emma’s ever seen comes later when Regina drops the towel, and she spends a long, long time showing Regina as much.

 

 

*

 

Later, they’re lying together on the bed, the gazillion-thread-count white sheet pulled across their bodies, and Regina finally brings up the question of the hour.

 

“Do we want to tell people?”

 

“Maybe once we’ve been on an actual date that doesn’t take place via Skype?” Emma jokes, and Regina chuckles.

 

“Honestly, though?” Emma continues. “I told Gold about us a few days ago, because he always finds out about anything I do, and it’s best if it comes directly from me.”

 

“What’d he say?” Regina queries, tracing patterns across Emma’s bare wrist with her index finger.

 

“I’ve got dirt on him I’ve been saving for a time like this. So we made a deal, and he won’t leak anything to the press until we’re ready. He did beg me to wait until after the Grammys, though. Says this whole ‘rivals’ thing has been great for my numbers.”

 

“Mine, too. Mother was just talking about it this morning, actually.”

 

“So, I was thinking. As much as I hate the secrecy, we could keep this on the downlow until the Grammys. And then we can be all, ‘Surprise! You guys were totally wrong!’”

 

Regina ponders it for a few seconds. “I guess it’s only three months. We can do three months.”

 

“And if either of us gets uncomfortable at any point, we come clean. I really like you. A lot. I don’t want to risk this just for the sake of a little career boost.”

 

Emma doesn’t mention the fact that Regina’s career needs the boost more than hers does. Emma’s already proven to have staying power, but Regina is still teetering in that stage between one-hit-wonder and here-to-stay star. And keeping her in the press means keeping her in people’s minds, and if Emma can do anything to help Regina’s career, she will.

 

“And really,” Regina starts to smile. “Secrecy could be kind of fun. We’ll be like Monica and Chandler.”

 

Emma snorts. “Exactly. Though it’s not like we can _never_ spend time together. It’s amazing what the press will ignore if it doesn’t go along with the story they want to tell. We could practically do dinner and a movie every night for the next three months, and as long as we don’t make out in front of them, they’ll never promote us beyond ‘frenemies.’”

 

“So no kisses unless we’re in private?”

 

“Nope, those’ll have to stay here.” Emma waves a finger around, indicating their private setting.

 

“Buuuut what if I wanted to kiss you here?” Regina smirks and presses a kiss to Emma’s elbow. “Or here?” Her lips move to Emma’s sternum, and Emma feels heat begin to grow between her thighs again.

 

“Or here?” She kisses Emma’s belly button, and Emma feels her abs contract at the sensation. The brunette continues moving south, finally pausing right where Emma wants her.

 

“Or…” Regina doesn’t finish the final question with a spoken word but with an action, using her tongue to spell it out.

 

Emma runs out of words for a while. Or at least ones that can be repeated in front of a decent audience.

 

*

 

_**SPOTTED:** _

 

_Emma Swan attending (yet another) Regina Mills concert...this time in Tucson, Arizona, with no disguise to be seen. What is Emma up to? No foul play or sabotage seems to be afoot, not that anyone would suspect such behavior from Swan. Whatever her reason, at this point, there are only three stops left on the Regina Mills “Regal” Tour, and each one is sold out. Perhaps America’s Sweetheart is looking to pick up performance tips from her biggest rival and, as of last week’s announcement, fellow Grammy nominee. There were others on the list, of course, but the Regal Rivals are already rumored to be at the head of the race. But only time will tell which one will be going home with the trophy and which one will be singing the swan song._

 

_XOXO,_

_**Gossip Granny** _

 

* * *

 

The fifth time Emma sees Regina Mills singing on a stage, it's not technically a concert. Also, she says “I love you.”

 

To be fair, it’s not the first time she’s said it, not at the Grammys in front of a viewing audience of millions. She’s not an ass, for crying out loud.

 

No, she says it first the night before, right after the run-through. She’s known it for sure for weeks now, and it’s just been sitting there on the tip of her tongue, ready for her to work up her courage and say the words. They go back to Emma’s condo after the rehearsal and have a jam session together, Regina on the keyboard and Emma on guitar. Between playing around with lyrics and harmonies, they discuss how they’re going to reveal their relationship. They decide on a general plan, knowing the details don’t really matter, as long as they can finally be together in the open.

 

Because Regina was right. Sneaking around was fun, but only at first. This isn’t high school, and they’re both ready for a real, public relationship, regardless of any negative backlash they may encounter.

 

The plan decided, they go back to the music, and Regina slips on the glasses she sometimes wears when she gets sick of her contacts.

 

Emma really, really likes it when Regina gets sick of her contacts.

 

Regina’s just sitting there on her floor, pantsless, cross-legged with a keyboard pulled up onto her lap.

 

And all of the sudden, Emma _knows_. She knows why she’s felt just slightly off for the past couple weeks. Not because she loves Regina, but because she’s holding it back, and love isn’t not something that’s meant to be held back. It’s meant to be given. (She swears Mary Margaret has that embroidered on a pillow somewhere.)

 

Regina plays a few notes and hums along, then looks up questioningly when Emma doesn’t strum her part.

 

“Something wrong?” she inquires with a frown.

 

“I love you,” Emma states, and she hasn’t said those words to anyone besides Mary Margaret in a very long time. But saying them feels freeing, feels like flying, feels more right than Emma could have imagined.

 

Regina opens her mouth to respond, and Emma cuts her off with a mock glare. “And I swear to Barbra Streisand, if you say ‘I know’ right now, I will jump into a vat of carbonite myself.”

 

Regina smiles but rolls her eyes and holds up her hands. “I wasn’t going to, I swear! I don’t know why you insist I say that all the time.”

 

“Maybe because you do? You _just_ did it last night.”

 

“That was because you told me you wanted chocolate ice cream when the choices were plain chocolate and rocky road! And you’ve made your feelings on nuts in your ice cream _very_ clear.”

 

“I’m just saying.”

 

“You are, are you? Well, guess what? I have something to say, too.” Regina lays the keyboard off to the side, maneuvers onto her knees and scoots a few feet closer, so they’re sitting knee-to-knee on Emma’s living room floor.

 

“Emma Swan,” she starts, and Emma knows what she’s going to say. She’s been pretty confident in it for a while. But her breath still catches in her lungs, and she still finds her eyes filling with tears as Regina continues. “I love you, too.”

 

And Emma bites her lip as the tears fall, and then they’re kissing and kissing, and soon the song is forgotten for the rest of the night.

 

They say it many times that night, then again on the phone the next morning, through Skype once in the afternoon. Then they don’t see each other again until they’re a distance apart on the red carpet, because unfortunately you don’t get to choose the interview order or the seating arrangements at an event this big.

 

Then it’s time for Regina to perform, and Emma knows she’s extremely nervous about it. So Emma does the only thing she can to try to be supportive and helpful from a distance. She locks eyes with Regina over the crowd and mouths the words as clearly as she can, and she sees Regina take a deep breath and smile.

 

The time Emma heard Regina croon “Once Upon a Time” live at that first concert doesn’t even hold a candle to how beautifully Regina sings it tonight.

 

Emma doesn’t even try to keep her expression neutral (though she _does_ try to hold back any tears, because she never trusts any mascara that claims to be waterproof), though she knows the cameras will probably be flashing to her more often than not, wanting to get some nice glowering shots. Let the audience think what they may, because she’s watching her girlfriend prove why she deserves this Grammy.

 

Because though Emma wants the award a little bit for herself, because she’s just human that way, she is rooting for Regina all the way down to her toes.

 

When the presenters for Best Pop Solo Performance saunter across the stage, Emma has to physically keep herself from tapping the table or jiggling her leg. She just wants to scream at them to stop teasing it out and just _announce_ it.

 

And finally they do.

 

“And the winner is...REGINA MILLS!”

 

Emma grins and grins and doesn’t stop grinning, all through Regina making her way up the steps, graciously if a little haltingly giving her speech. Regina reads straight from her tiny index card, only looking up and around every few words. She never makes eye contact with Emma directly, but Emma feels her smile widen even further, until her cheeks are in actual pain, as Regina concludes her acceptance.

 

“And especially to E. I don’t know if I would’ve been able to do this without you. I mean, let’s be real, I probably could’ve, because I’m pretty awesome on my own.” Emma laughs, along with the rest of the audience. “But you’ve made me better in ways I never even realized I was missing, and I hope you can say the same.”

 

The award show concludes soon after, and they’re all shuffled out for interviews.

 

It’s time.

 

Emma feels the nerves buzzing under her skin, so ready for what’s about to happen.

 

She’s pulled into the first interview with one of the biggest celebrity news shows out there. Emma recognizes Kathryn Nolan, one of the few reporters she actually respects, and she’s glad.

 

“So, Emma, we’ll go for the obvious question first: How do you feel?”

 

Kathryn’s face is supportive, and Emma can tell she’s waiting for the standard answer.

 

But that’s not what she’s going to get.

 

“Are you kidding? This is the best night of my _life_!” Emma exclaims, and she could laugh out loud at the way Kathryn blinks at her for a second. A less experienced reporter probably would’ve been at a loss, but Kathryn recovers well.

 

“Well, I love your enthusiasm, Emma! Am I wrong to state that reports of a rivalry between you and Regina have been overstated?”

 

This time Emma can’t help but laugh. “You could say that.”

 

And then, there she is, appearing only three feet away, right behind Kathryn, and Emma nearly knocks the blonde over in her haste to get to Regina.

 

Emma throws her arms around her, and they spin in one quick circle together, Regina clutching tightly to Emma’s forearm.

 

“Congratulations! I'm so happy for you,” Emma whispers into her ear.

 

They stop spinning, already having attracted more attention than they expected. Cameras are beginning to flash from different directions.

 

Emma looks at Regina once for confirmation, and Regina gives her a clear nod, not an ounce of hesitation in her eyes.

 

Emma feels like she could float away, and she turns back to Kathryn and her camera.

 

“You all want to know why I was going to all those concerts? Because the woman I love puts on one hell of a show.” Emma leans over to drop a quick kiss on her lips. Regina beams at her, and Emma feels a matching expression on her own face.

 

The flashes increase from all sides, cameramen suddenly swarming. But Kathryn is the only one close enough for a question, and she continues her interview with a genuine smile.

 

“So the two of you are together?”

 

“We are,” Regina answers.

 

“Well, let me be the first to congratulate you. Any plans to release a duet? I know I personally would kill to hear both of your voices together.”

 

Emma chuckles. “Funny you should mention that. Looks like you guys are gonna be the first to get the scoop, because we have more than just one song for you. We actually have an entire combined tour! So be on the lookout for tickets, because four months from now, Emma Swan and Regina Mills will be coming to a venue near you!”

 

At that point, it gets too loud for Emma to hear Kathryn’s next question, but it’s okay, because she can’t see anyone besides Regina anyway.

 

*

 

_**BELLE Magazine** _

 

“ _ **Here the Whole Time”**_

_**An Exclusive Interview with Emma Swan and Regina Mills** _

_by Lacey French_

 

_The two women greet me with smiles, so obviously in love, it’s amazing we all missed it for so long. Looking back and forth between Emma Swan and Regina Mills is like looking at two suns trying to outshine each other. A third charm has been added to Emma’s trademark necklaces, a tiny crown now joining the swan inside the circle._

 

_For the first time, they confirm the actual timeline of their relationship._

 

“ _We’re generally private people, as everyone probably knows by now. But we thought it was important to set the record straight,” Emma says, and Regina nods in agreement._

 

“ _We’ve been together seven months,” Regina states. “Since the week after the Grammy nominations were announced.”_

 

_Despite curious questions from myself and many others on social networking sites, the two remain tight-lipped about the details._

 

_They do, however, refute the claims that they were ever enemies on a personal level._

 

“ _We were never enemies. With the way our careers intertwined, we could have been. But we were friends almost from the instant we met. And when we knew we both wanted more, well,” Emma trails off, shrugging, and Regina reaches over to take her hand._

 

“ _Why wouldn’t we go for it?” Regina finishes. “It isn’t every day that you look at someone and think, ‘Wow, you might be my happy ending,’ you know?”_

 

_The conversation turns to Regina’s newest single, “Brave,” the first to be released from her album coming out early next year. This album will veer away from the fairytale theme she’s known for. “It’s something different. I didn’t really go with a theme this time, though obviously a lot of thought went into which songs to include. I’m very happy with the finished product-”_

 

“ _It’s amazing,” Emma interrupts, and Regina swats her playfully on the shoulder._

 

“ _As I was saying, I’m very happy with the finished product - as is my girlfriend who is probably biased as she’s my duet partner on the final track - and I think everyone else will be, too.”_

 

_We move onto Emma’s newest album, “Who I Am,” which comes out next week. They were able to give me a sneak preview of the album. The title track, which has already spent three weeks at the top of the billboard, is a great tune for driving around with the windows down or dancing in your underwear, but it isn’t even the highlight of the album. For me, that honor goes to, “My Darling,” a song sure to bring tears to the most stoic individuals. So when you listen to the new album, bring tissues, bring your dancing shoes, but most of all, bring your ears, because you won’t want to miss a second._

 

_Tonight is the first night of their combined tour, and when asked if they’re going to be the next Tim and Faith, Emma laughs. “Maybe, I guess? I mean, they’re a great couple to be compared to; they’re the sweetest, and they’ve been together forever. The concert is bound to be pretty different though. I mean, for one thing, definitely less heterosexuality,” she quips._

 

“ _And a lot less cowboy hats,” adds Regina._

 

“ _Possibly comparable amounts of flannel, though,” Emma concludes, and they both laugh._

 

“ _Emma does love flannel.”_

 

“ _It’s because it reminds me of pajamas,” Emma whispers conspiratorially._

 

_Talking with these two is going to go down as one of my favorite interviews of all time. The Regal Sweethearts, as we’ve all grown to know them, are possibly the most refreshing and down-to-earth couple one could meet. If a concert with them is half as enjoyable as a conversation, those ticket holders should count themselves very lucky tonight._

 

* * *

 

The fifty-second time Emma Swan goes to a Regina Mills concert, she’s technically the co-headliner, and she has sweaty palms, a diamond ring in her pocket, and a heart that’s threatening to out-drum Travis Barker.

 

She also quite literally has a song in her heart - or as close as it can be, really, the lone sheet of notebook paper folded up and tucked inside the breast pocket of her fitted blue flannel - but that sounds too cheesy even in her head.

 

She also has a question, a very simple, very important question, to ask Regina, and she’s been practicing it all day.

 

She doesn’t know for sure what the answer will be, can’t know for sure until she asks.

 

But she thinks she might.

 

And she has hope.  
  


*

_**VIDEO** _

 

_(Recorded by Mary Margaret Blanchard, at the request of Emma Swan.)_

 

_**SETTING:** _ _Last day of the Emma Swan & Regina Mills tour. Backstage dressing room of the _ _**Mifflin Theatre** _ _, the very same venue where Emma saw Regina play for the very first time._

 

_[_ _**Regina Mills** _ _sits on the couch on the right side of the room, sipping a water bottle.]_

 

_[_ _**Emma Swan** _ _enters the room, guitar in hand.]_

 

_**Emma** _ _: I have a present for you._

 

_**Regina** _ _: [frowns] But my birthday isn’t until next week._

 

_**Emma** _ _: I know. But this is important, and it’s not a birthday present. Well, not specifically. Though it does include birthdays. And a lot of other days._

 

_**Regina** _ _: Okay. Go ahead._

 

_[_ _**Emma** _ _takes a deep breath and begins to sing]_

 

_[_ _**Regina** _ _lifts her hands to her mouth, growing noticeably more emotional as the song continues.]_

 

_[_ _**Emma** _ _’s voice cracks, possibly due to tears, and_ _**Regina** _ _offers a drink from her water bottle before she continues playing.]_

 

_[Audible sniffing comes from behind the camera.]_

 

_[_ _**Emma** _ _finishes the song, sets the guitar aside, and gets down on one knee in front of_ _**Regina** _ _.]_

 

_**Emma** _ _: Regina Mills, will you marry me?_

 

_**Regina** _ _: [crying and smiling] Of course! Emma, yes._

 

_[_ _**Emma** _ _and_ _**Regina** _ _both stand, then kiss. They back away from the kiss, hug tightly, and_ _**Emma** _ _slips the ring onto_ _**Regina** _ _’s finger. Then they kiss again. The kissing goes on for a very long time. When a moan is audible, the shot shakily zooms out and is shut off by a door.]_

 

_[Shot suddenly swings around, into the face of_ _**Mary Margaret Blanchard** _ _.]_

 

_**Mary Margaret** _ _: Called it._

 

_[_ _**Mary Margaret** _ _smiles triumphantly.]_

 

_[Fade to black]_

 

 


End file.
